February
by limecottage
Summary: Apparently, all that was missing was a friendship. Exploring my favourite part of the books, life at Hogwarts! Canon-compliant except for OC, slightly fluffy and Draco-centric.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is the second time I am publishing this story, with some significant changes. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Hogwarts, its students, teachers and events all belong to J.K. Rowling. Plot and characters you don't recognize are mine.

* * *

**February**

**Chapter I**

Draco Malfoy was still sitting on the Slytherin's common room sofa when he heard a clock strike midnight. He hadn't realized it was already so late.

Books and pieces of parchment had been left askew across several tables, as some of the fifth year's students had started talking about school, which lead to other much more interesting topics, such as impersonating teachers.

"Okay, okay, stop me if you've heard this one," said Blaise Zabini between laughs, obviously trying very hard not to smile. "My children, you must fear your future, even if your reading of these stupid tea leaves tell you that you'll live to be 125!"

"Oh, oh, I know, it's that woman, from that class, with the crystal balls!" yelled Vincent Crabbe, waving his chubby fingers excitedly in the air.

"I think you're talking about Trelawney, right?" asked Draco from one of the sofa, his arm around a slightly pug-faced girl.

"Yeah, I think that's her, you're right!"

"Of course I'm right," he replied. His mind started wandering for a bit. He was quite sleepy, and just wished he could go to bed, but was too lazy to go up the stairs to his dormitory. Facing the fire, his friends' voices faded away to a deep corner of his mind. It wasn't that he didn't like them, not at all. They had known each other for years, but sometimes he could only do so much as roll his eyes as an answer to their actions. Even though he acted just as immaturely as they did. Or even worse, sometimes. He felt Pansy Parkinson get up from beside him, but couldn't be bothered to ask where she was going. Turning his attention to his group of friends, he noticed they were now immersed in a game of Exploding Snaps. Draco scooted further away from them and nearer the fire, feeling his cheeks starting to warm up. He instantly felt cold shivers running throughout his body. It was still September, but it was starting to seem that Winter would be coming a whole lot quicker that year.

Pancy's footsteps echoed through the dormitory staircase, muffled by her fuzzy pink socks. Draco looked up and saw her carrying several blankets piled up in her arms. She placed one on his lap and distributed the rest to the others. Everyone bundled up, including Draco, who quietly thanked Pansy. She had brought her own blanket and barely acknowledged his thanks. Pansy was a strange girl, he thought. She was fun to be around, with her biting insults directed to anyone who wasn't a Slytherin, but she was also terribly moody and usually threw tantrums over the smallest of things. Usually things he did or said. It almost felt like she was his girlfriend and he actually had to support and cherish her. Draco did not understand girls at all. He heard a door dragging, the screech startling him, and he snapped his head at the stone passage on the wall, reaching for his wand instinctively. Everyone stopped their game as well, alarmed that there was still someone out in the castle breaking curfew. A girl with disheveled hair and very sleepy eyes walked in, shuffling her feet and rubbing her face with her free hand, holding some books in the other.

"Oh, it's just you. You gave us all a proper scare! What are you doing out so late?" asked Daphne Greengrass, one of his housemates, a smart girl whom he had been friends with for many years.

"Ugh, don't even ask me about it. I fell asleep at the library, missed dinner and am absolutely starving."

"I have some cookies on my bedside table upstairs, feel free to help yourself if you want to," offered Daphne, "You shouldn't work yourself so hard, you know."

The girl smiled, "Oh, thank you Daphne, I really appreciate it! I know, I know, but being a bookworm is bigger than me, I can't help it! Well, I'm calling it a night, goodnight everyone."

Everyone mumbled their goodnights, Draco included, as they watched her walk away and disappear into the stairs.

"Who is she?" he asked, and got a series of laughs as answers, "What? What's so funny?"

"Always the jokester, acting like you don't know her. Well, I guess I've also only seen her a couple of times this year, but still mate, there wasn't really any need to mock the poor lass," replied Blaise, who quickly re-immersed himself in his game. Draco felt confused and finally decided to head upstairs to get some sleep. He heard Pansy whimper some apology, which he didn't understand. It's not like she had done anything wrong. He still tried to make sense of her while he put his pajamas on, but quickly gave up and climbed into bed. As soon as his feet touched the cool sheets he felt exhausted and fell asleep shortly after.

The following morning, Draco was incredibly late for his class. Maybe not incredibly, but he liked being able to do everything on his own pace, meaning, very, very slowly. He had woken up fifteen minutes later than usual, and had had to take a shower in a rush, making his wet hair hit him in the face as he left the Slytherin common room. As he reached the Great Hall, he noticed that almost the entire student body was already there. And that his usual seat at the Slytherin table was already occupied by Theodore Nott. Draco curtly greeted everyone, and scouted for a seat. He soon found one, not too far away from his friends, and began piling up his plate with food. Mail arrived when he was buttering his toast, and a thousand owls dropped letters, newspapers and packages everywhere. A small brown parcel fell in front of his plate quite forcefully, nearly making his glass of orange juice tumble forwards. He picked it up and inspected it. It was too small to be sent from home, and his family's Eagle owl was nowhere in sight. He turned it around and saw some writings in the back.

"From: Toby

To: Anne

Don't stress over schoolwork!"

The sound of someone clearing his throat made him look up.

A girl was looking at him, "Yeah, that's mine."

"Oh, it landed right in front of my plate, so I just assumed..." he handed the package back to her.

"It's okay," she mumbled, and started to fumble with the string around the brown paper, trying to untie the knot. Her fingertips were getting red. He felt like ripping it out of her hands and untying it himself, but decided against it, and resumed his toast-buttering. When he looked up again, having finished his breakfast, she was gone, like most of the table. He got up, picked up his things, and headed for Potions, where he would have to face yet another examination, for which he hadn't studied. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes, sighing, and wishing he could go back to his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

The bell rung about 5 seconds after Draco had managed to slip discretely into the dungeon where his class was being held. He took a seat near the back of the room, on the side where most of the Slytherins sat. He greeted Gregory Goyle, a large boy who was of very good use in serving as his bodyguard, and dropped all of his belongings on the table. He promptly laid his head on his arms, his eyes threatening to drop shut.

However, he quickly straightened up when he heard the dungeon's door close behind him, making all the vials on the shelves hung across the room tremble and nearly fall to the floor. Severus Snape stormed in, his black robes billowing behind him. He strode across the room, and stood facing all his students.

"Today you will be preparing the Draught Of Peace. As you all know, this is a standard O.W.L. Potion. Open your books on page eighty-four, you have forty-five minutes to complete it. I remind you that this is a graded assignment and not simple practice. You may commence," Professor Snape's voice dragged on in a seemingly endless monotone, almost as if he was doing an immense favor to someone by simply being here. Which he probably was, seeing as he seemed to take a strong dislike to everyone, especially his students.

Draco looked around, noticing everyone already getting started on their potions, except for Neville Longbottom, probably his favourite Gryffindor, simply for being so easy to mess with. He still looked very pale after Snape's short speech, and almost frozen to the ground. Everyone knew he feared the Potions Master more than anything else in the world, and the few who doubted it, got all the answers they could've possibly needed, when two years ago, they saw Longbottom's boggart turn into Professor Snape. The memory of the Professor wearing an old lady's clothes, albeit disrespectful, still brought a smile to Draco's face.

A tap on the shoulder brought Draco back into reality, as Professor Snape advised him to begin working. Draco did as he was told, rolling up his sleeves and carefully started adding moonstone to his cauldron.

Twenty minutes flew by, and as Draco was steadily stirring his Draught Of Peace, he heard a few mutters of annoyance from someone in front of him. He looked up, and saw the back of the girl who was sitting opposite to him at the breakfast table, her package neatly placed next to her atop a pile of books. Her name was Anne, at least according to what was written on the packet. Her potion was the colour it was supposed to be, a very soothing white. Draco's draught was see-through.

"Mr. Malfoy, please pay attention to what you're doing, you forgot to add a pinch of peppermint," said Professor Snape in a dry voice, while peering into the his cauldron. Draco muttered a "sorry, sir", and proceeded to add a little twig of peppermint. The Professor walked away, now watchfully inspecting Anne's potion. He said nothing regarding it, only collecting a sample in a small vial he had retrieved from his cloak's pocket. This usually meant a good potion. Draco was slightly jealous, and just kept stirring his draught, fuming silently.

He watched Anne for a bit. She was cleaning up her cauldron and putting it away. Her movements were a bit slow, very careful, as if the cauldron could break at the slightest touch. She had this hint of a smile on her face, a bit of smugness shining through. Draco recognized it, since he had sported it himself many times, a true Slytherin never hides his accomplishments.

"The forty-five minutes are up, please collect a sample in a properly labeled vial, place it on my desk, and you may leave," announced Snape, in his usual monotone, running a hand through his long, black hair.

After delivering the vial, Draco collected his belongings, watching Longbottom fret over his unfinished draught, while Granger (uselessly) tried to aid him. Smirking, he unhurriedly packed his books and wand and put on his cloak. Longbottom fearfully placed the vial on the Professor's desk, nearly dropping it to the ground twice. Draco couldn't help but quietly snigger as Snape shook his head, sighing at his student's helplessness.

Anne was packing everything up in front of him, and Draco began to wonder how he'd never noticed her before. It was true that Hogwarts had become so crowded that he kept seeing new faces every day, but there still weren't that many Slytherin fifth years, so he couldn't have completely overlooked her. The only logical explanation was for her to be very, very quiet and always sit at the back everywhere she went. Before she left the dungeon, she cast Draco a small smile and waved her hand. Draco lifted his hand at her, as a form of greeting, in a way he thought was quite stupid. He got his belongings and left after her. Pansy, Blaise and Daphne were waiting for him outside.

"Finally! Come on, we've got to get to Charms, on the other side of the castle," Blaise sounded impatient and he kept fidgeting with his cloak.

"Calm down, mate, you're turning into such a good student already?" said Draco, with a smirk.

"Very funny, you know I don't like being down here. Let's go!"

"If the princess wants to leave, we leave," said Daphne, clearly irritated for having to move from her spot.

The foursome started walking up a flight of stairs, Pansy talking animatedly with Blaise, while Draco and Daphne followed silently followed them. School had begun a week ago, and already most teachers were going mental with assignments and homework. They would be taking their O.W.L.s, which required a great deal of preparation, not to mention all the pressure the faculty members were facing from the ministry. Draco thought some of them quite needed constant vigilance, so it wasn't all of a bad thing. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dolores Umbridge had already taken quite a liking to him, seeing as he had behaved quite sweetly to her in the first week of school. He immediately saw it would come in handy for him to be on her side. Still, the onslaught of work was very painful to him, and seeing how it starting to get to Blaise so early was quite worrying.

Pushing the Charm's classroom heavy door revealed it to be different than Draco had expected: hundreds of pillows, some round, some square, were thrown across the room in a careless manner, and all the tables had been pushed to a corner. Some students were already throwing simple hexes at each other, while others tried to cast a protective spell to deflect them. There were a lot of thumps and people moaning with pain as they fell backwards onto the pillows, which didn't really break much of anyone's fall.

Draco settled at a corner with Daphne, playfully hexing each other, ocasionally being interrupted by Professor Flitwick with some corrections.

"I'm so sick of school already, I miss the summer!" complained Daphne, who was lifting herself up from the ground.

Draco shook twirled his hand between his fingers, "Let's hope this year will be a bit different, with Dumbledore not having free reign over the school."

"Teachers have gone insane, too. I think the only person who can possibly enjoy this load of schoolwork is that mudblood, Granger. And probably Anne. Do you know Anne?"

"Anne, the girl who came in the common room last night? Not really, no."

"Yeah, that's her. She's right over there," she pointed to the other side of the classroom, where Anne was falling to the ground in a very ungraceful way, "She loves learning, not in the 'Oh I know it all, I'm so better than you' way. Well, maybe a bit. She definitely likes school."

"That's really strange, Daphne."

"Anne is a strange girl, Draco. How is it possible how don't know her? I hang out with her all the time."

"I've asked myself the same thing," he dodged a hex, "Merlin, that was a bit rough, don't you think?"

"Suck it up, little girl."

After class Draco felt exhausted, and responding to his stomach's growl, he quickly walked to the Great Hall before all the good food was taken. Vincent and Gregory were busying themselves throwing mashed potatoes at some Hufflepuffs' heads, so Draco decided to eat his lunch alone while finishing his Divination homework.

Doing his homework turned out to be quite useless, since Professor Trelawney never asked for it, and Draco just fell asleep during class, the combination of post-lunch laziness and warm classroom air making his eyelids close shut. He was rudely awoken by the school bell, which triggered a sense of freedom in him, as he jumped from his chair, book bag in hand, and ran outside.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

Draco chose to enjoy the last rays of sunshine he'd see for a long time, and headed towards the school grounds, settling under a large oak, leaning his head against the thick tree trunk. He took his heavy book-bag off his shoulder and placed it next to him. Looking around him he could see some first-years teasing the giant squid and then running off shrieking when it tried to touch them back. A bright ray of sunshine hit him across the face, and he closed his eyes, thinking maybe he could continue his nap. The sun felt pleasantly warm, and he could smell wet dirt. _It smelled like Autumn_, he thought.

His eyes hadn't been closed for even five minutes when he heard laughter and the occasional snort. He inwardly groaned, realizing his friends couldn't leave him alone not even to save their own lives. _That's what you get for having the spirit of a leader_, he mused.

He was soon surrounded by his usual group of friends, who were talking and laughing around him. Shortly after, some of the older students joined them, using the opportunity to copy assignments off of each other. As they all chatted excitedly, Draco laid on the grass and used Pansy's lap as a pillow, happy to not have to lean against the hard tree trunk.

He closed his eyes again, all the voices and sounds around him starting to feel like they were part of a dream, and he felt blissfully happy and relaxed as Pansy started running her fingers through his hair.

However, the feeling of something sharp clawing on his stomach made Draco jolt awake and sit upright swiftly. After noticing it was just an owl, he ran a hand through his tangled hair, slightly oblivious to all the chuckles of laughter and Pansy's slightly disappointed expression. After rubbing his eyes and taking a closer look at the bird, he recognized his family's owl who was now engaged in the important activity of scratching its left wing. This allowed Draco to retrieve the letter from its paw without suffering any attacks to his right hand.

When he saw his father's name scribbled across the envelope, he decided against opening it on the spot. He settled the brown owl on his arm, picked up his book bag, mumbled something about going to the Owlery and left, headed to the West Tower.

After having left the Eagle Owl upon a perch, promising it he would be back later with an answer and a treat, he started walking towards the dungeons, to the Slytherin common room. About halfway through he remembered it would probably be filled with people, and he needed some privacy. He turned around and started to roam the stone-covered corridors, which were practically deserted. All the students were either outside, or still in class. He pitied them for still having classes after 3 PM.

He couldn't help but wonder what his father possibly wanted from him. He had chosen not to open the letter in public just in case it was something related to his father's "businesses". The last thing he needed was for it to fall on the wrong hands and be severely misinterpreted. Besides, it wasn't particularly nice having Blaise taking a peek at every word he wrote. The lad was incredibly nosy.

Upon entering the library he was greeted with the familiar smell of books a hush from the librarian. He silently walked around for a bit, trying to find an empty table. He found one nudged between two bookcases, underneath a window, and with no students in sight.

_ Perfect_, he thought as he sat down. The pale yellow light illuminated the table, and Draco stood still for a while, watching the dust particles dance in the sunlight. He remembered when, as a little boy, he'd spend many hours in his father's library trying to catch the little particles, thinking they were Doxies. If they had been Doxies, Draco probably would be missing his right hand.

The letter was nothing more than a small reminder from his father to study hard, keep an eye on his classmates, and report any suspicious events back to him. On the bottom of the parchment, it could be read in a very tiny font: "Your mother sends love and tells you not to stress too much." His mother was the one who probably worried too much, but Draco silently appreciated her for doing so.

Taking out a bit of parchment and a quill, he started to reassure his father and his mother that yes, all was well. No, he still hadn't switched to the Light side. Yes, he would study for his O.W.L.s. After a few minutes, he heard the sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floor, followed by a shushing sound coming from Madam Pince, the extremely annoying and unhelpful librarian, who had a slight obsession with silence. Draco hadn't looked up but he knew someone had sat in front of him. Surely enough, Anne was now happily unpacking her books, completely disregarding him. She took up half the space on the old wooden desk, open books scattered everywhere. She started taking notes with a colorful quill.

Draco coughed, was hushed by the librarian whom he ignored, and quietly said, "Excuse me, that seat is taken."

Her eyes didn't leave her papers, "I sit here everyday, I don't see why I should move now."

He shot a blonde eyebrow up, and continued, "Well, I was here first."

She looked up, her dark eyes staring into his, "I said I'm not going to move. Feel free to find another place to sit, there are plenty of other seats available. Now if you don't mind, could you please be quiet, I have some work to do."

A small frown creased his forehead. He wasn't going to leave, he was there first! He wasn't being stubborn, he firmly believed he was right. She should be the one to leave, not him. He would just have to psychologically pressure her. He opened his mouth to speak, but found her nose buried so deeply in her books that he gave up, admitting that she would probably not even look at him.

An hour had gone by, and she was still engrossed in her homework or studying or whatever she was doing. Draco had finished his letter long ago, but didn't leave because... He wasn't quite sure, to tell the truth. Leaving was like losing. Draco didn't like losing, even if it was losing a battle that only existed in his mind. Instead, he started getting ahead on some homework he had pending. Sometimes he'd look up, and she would be nibbling on her quill, or crossing something out with it, deep in thought.

He may or may not have done his homework for the next three weeks in a single afternoon. Luckily he had brought his book bag with him, or he would have had to pretend to do something of interest, such as reading a book for pleasure. He should have just gone to his dormitory.

Without notice, Madam Pince's shrill voice reverberated from the library's walls, "It's 8 o' clock, the library is closing!" she wasn't exactly yelling it, but since the only sounds in the library were the scratching of quills and hushed whispers, her normal voice sounded like a banshee being tortured. The few students left in the library started packing and putting books back into their proper places. Draco was still a bit bewildered at how quickly the time had gone by. Before he knew it, his newfound table-mate was up, her chair put back in place, staring at him.

"Well," she started, "are you going to just sit there?"

"Where do you suppose I should go?" Draco asked, a look of victory upon his face.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe dinner, since it'll be over in about," she checked her watch, "twenty-five minutes."

His victory had been short-lived. "And what's it to you if I have dinner or not?"

"Don't really know, either," she replied, shrugging her shoulders, "but we just spent a whole afternoon together, and it'd be rude to leave without even saying anything. My parents taught me manners, you know."

Draco slung his bag over his shoulder, stood up, and stuck out his hand, "Draco Malfoy."

"Anne Grey, nice to meet you," she took his hand and smiled.

She started walking away, and Draco silently followed, his stomach grumbling in protest. He would practically have to swallow his dinner in about ten minutes. They exited the library and started making their way towards the the Great Hall. She was walking besides him, struggling with her book bag shoulder strap.

"You're our Prefect this year, aren't you?" she asked, pointing at his golden badge.

"I think it's quite obvious, yes," he answered.

"And what does a Prefect do, exactly? I've never understood."

Draco looked ahead for a while, "I'm not sure."

She laughed, "You're not sure of what you are?"

"No. And my guess is, you're not either."

"Oh, I see, we're getting to a whole new level here. Very deep, very deep, Mr. Malfoy."

"Mr. Malfoy is my father; just Draco, Ms. Grey."

"Are we on a surname basis now?"

"We could be."

"That's just weird."

They went down a flight of stairs, which decided to shift directions while they were still on them.

"Still haven't told me what you do."

"I guess a Prefect has to maintain peace and order and all that. I just mostly use it as an excuse to use the Prefects' bathroom. It has a really big pool."

"I have to share a tiny bathroom with 3 other girls, so not fair."

"You have to be brilliant like me to get all these perks."

"How modest!" she smiled.

When they finally stopped at set ground, she asked him, "Why did you stay?"

"Stay where?"

"In the library, silly."

"Oh, right," he cleared his throat, "I had some things to do. And I was there first, anyway."

She laughed, "You're never going to give this up, are you?"

"Of course not," he said, a smile tugging at his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

Draco found the Great Hall fairly deserted already. He spotted Professor Snape sitting at the teacher's table, talking to Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse. He acknowledged Draco's presence with a slight bow of his head, which Draco immediately mimicked.

The Slytherin table was devoid of Students, save for two little girls finishing their desserts, and Anne, who had already sat down, and was surveying the food. There wasn't really much left, but that didn't mean she couldn't try to find something half-decent to eat.

Searching for a seat with a clean plate, Draco found one near the end of the long wooden table. Sitting down, he helped himself to some chicken wings and boiled carrots, and began eating his dinner.

The clanking of plates and cutlery soon made him sigh, look up, and see Anne sitting in front of him, poking at her food as she'd always been there. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"I'm here alone, you're here alone, tell me a good reason why we shouldn't eat together."

Draco went back to his carrots.

Roughly 10 minutes later, Anne had finished her dinner, and was playing with one of her bracelets. Draco was actually trying to understand if she was waiting for him to be finished, or if she was just very absent-minded and hadn't realized she had eaten everything on her plate already.

He coughed and got up as the table cleared itself. She was already walking towards the halls, and Draco sped up his pace a bit to keep up with her. She was waiting for him at the Great Hall's doors, smiling.

"Are you going to the dungeons as well?" she asked.

He nodded, and both silently made their way to their common room.

This otherwise short walk was being made extremely long by a horribly awkward silence. He half-hoped she would start a conversation, but it didn't seem that she was going to.

He, on the other hand, considered himself to be a man of action.

"So," he began, "Snape seemed to like your potion."

She raised her eyebrows, lips pursed, "I guess. At least he didn't tell me it was terrible."

"Even us, the Slytherins, can't manage more than a nod from him."

She smiled, "I've been in his class for the past four years. I think I know a thing or two about the way he acts."

Draco was silent for a minute, "I'd never noticed you before," he admitted.

She had stopped to watch a painting of a wizard chasing a pig, her back turned to him, "Yet, we've shared a common room and several classes for about 4 years."

He didn't know what to say, "Sorry?"

She turned to him and smiled, "What are you apologizing for? I was just stating a fact."

"I don't know, it sort of just slipped."

"Well, it's no problem, really. I'm not surprised you hadn't noticed me before, I tend to keep to myself."

"And why would you do that?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "It's just the way I am I guess. Besides, when I came here in my first year most of the girls struck me as really idiotic and mean. They're really not, we were just kids back then, but since I never befriended them, I never got to know their friends. By their friends, I mean everyone in our House," she paused, "And everyone else just automatically hates me because I'm a Slytherin, so there's not much hope for friends there, either. Not that I would want them, Merlin, I feel like slapping every single Gryffindor in this place. They think they are just so holy."

Draco looked at her, not quite knowing what to expect. Maybe a hint of sadness, or disappointment. Instead he found what he could only assume was internal peace. "But you get along with Daphne, don't you?"

She nodded, "Yes, I do. She's a nice girl, very fun to be around. I get along with everyone now, I'm just not too terribly close to them. Plus, I spend a lot of time cooped up in the library, and not everyone is inclined to keep me company." She punched him lightly in the arm, which made him smile a bit.

"Why do you study so much? There is more than life than that, you know."

She grinned and looked at him, "Of course I know, if that was all I even did, maybe I should be in Ravenclaw, don't you think?" Draco nodded, and she continued, "I just like making my family proud, that's all."

This made Draco smile as well, "I think everyone does."

"Yes, some more than others. But even though I try really hard, my grades are hardly above average. My brother always tells me I let school get to me more than it should, but he always says it with this really overjoyed look on his face."

"My mum is exactly the same," he smiled, and ran a hand through his hair. He noticed she was struggling with a few books she was carrying, "Do you want help with those?" he offered, pointing at her books.

She stared at her arms, looking slightly puzzled, "Sure, I guess," she said and handed him two large volumes.

"Bloody hell woman, might as well have brought the whole library with you!"

"Ah ah, very funny, Draco," she rolled her eyes, but he could see her smile.

"What do you want to be when you graduate?" the sudden change of subject seemed to be perfectly natural to Anne.

Choosing his words carefully, Draco slowly answered, "I think I'll follow my father's footsteps. A job at the ministry, maybe. I'd love to work on the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Going down a flight of stairs, the pair reached the common room's entrance.

"Yes, you're our seeker, aren't you?" commented Anne as they went through the entrance.

Draco nodded, quite proud of himself. Despite of what everyone in Hogwarts thought, Draco's entrance in the team hadn't been the result of a bribery from his father. He attended the try-outs, proved to be an excellent flyer, and was admitted into the team. The broomsticks were merely a reward, since Lucius Malfoy had been very happy when he had heard the news.

He smiled as he remembered his mother's face when he had arrived home for Christmas break that year, and how she had called him "her littlest seeker" and showered him with kisses.

Anne was smiling, too. She smiled a great deal, Draco had noticed.

They entered the common room, still packed with students. Draco hadn't realized he had felt cold until he felt the warmth of the flames on his legs. Anne was rubbing her right arm in an clumsy way, trying to balance her books, her cheeks rosy. Draco assumed she was freezing as well.

He walked Anne to the girls' dormitory stairs and handed her her books. She placed them gingerly in her arms, and kissed Draco's cheek, "Thank you for carrying these, it was very nice of you. I'm going to bed now, goodnight!"

Draco squeaked a goodnight back and set down his cloak and book-bag near his usual armchair. He heard Anne's voice call his name, and he looked at the stairs. Anne stood at the top, bent down to be able to look at him, "Oh, and, thanks for the company, it was lovely!"

He smiled at her, and sat down.

Three minutes later, Blaise was at his side, nudging his ribs with his elbow.

"Company, eh? Do tell, mate."

"Sod off, don't you have detention with McGonagall in 5 minutes, anyway?"

Draco relished the look of sheer panic on his classmate's face as he bolted to the halls. He felt some weight sink in the sofa next to him and looked sideways to face Pansy.

"You weren't at dinner tonight, did you eat?" she pouted and started stroking his hair.

He relaxed and closed his eyes, "I did."

"All alone? Oh, Draco, you should've come asked me to join you!"

"There was no need for that, Pansy. I wasn't alone at all."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V**

_Father,_

_ Thanks for all the letters you and mother have been sending me, I'm sorry I haven't had time to answer all of them. All the teachers are mad with the O.W.L.s and have been assigning us a lot of homework._

_ Yes, Quidditch practices have begun, and Graham Montague (this year's captain) has been extremely demanding. He wants, as does everyone on the team, to beat the Gryffindors in November, and get that cup for ourselves. We're a little rusty, and Vincent and Gregory are a bit thick, so they haven't properly learnt all the rules yet. They only became our beaters a week ago, so, we have to be a bit patient with them, even if it gets infuriating at times. But I'm sure that with a bit of practice, we'll be able to win the first match of the year._

_ Also, I've been meaning to ask you, do you or mother know anything about the Grey family? I assume they are pure-bloods, but I'd like to be sure, just in case._

_Draco_

_ P.S: Thank mother for all the things she's been sending me, those sugar quills were delicious._

After rereading his letter, Draco tied the scroll to his family's owl, scratching behind its ear, "Take this to the Malfoy Manor, will you?" The owl hooted and spread its huge wings, flying off into the distance. Draco looked around him, the incessant screeching coming from the thousands of owls making his head hurt, and quickly left the tower.

Taking a look at his watch, he thought it was better to head to Quidditch practice. The weather wasn't looking too promising, but he knew better than to hope Montague would dismiss them due to rain. In fact, he would probably make them work even harder. He might be a bit though, but he was a determined and excellent captain. Before heading to the pitch, Draco dropped by his dorm to get his uniform and headed outside towards the grounds.

After a brief meeting called by his captain, the team started warming up. While running a few laps, Draco's gaze scanned the bleachers. And, as usual, there was Anne, a book on her lap, smiling at him. She waved at him. Draco smiled and waved back.

She had been to a couple of his practices. She always got bored, seeing as they practiced for hours, and left, but Draco appreciated it nonetheless. He'd never actually had anyone watch his practices before. It was like having a one-member fan-base, and it did wonders to his ego. It was a very nice gesture of her, though.

He looked at her once more, her book now open, her eyes scanning the pages. The wind was hitting her cheeks, making them red and clashing with her green and silver Slytherin scarf. She sneezed and rubbed her hands together for warmth.

Montague's voice ordered his team to get up on their brooms, and they did as they were told. Draco felt the wind gushing against his cheeks, and the humidity seeping into his bones, making him feel extremely uncomfortable. Despite the terrible weather, being on a broomstick always had the power to make him forget everything else around him. The team, Draco included, spent the rest of the practice trying not to be hit by Crabbe and Goyle's bludgers. They were a bit enthusiastic about their bats, which would definitely come in handy at an actual match, but right then, it was seriously life-threatening. Night was coming when Montague finally called them down, yelling at Warrington for not being quick enough. Draco cast a glance at the bleachers, not being very surprised when he didn't find Anne there.

Shaking his wet hair out of his eyes, Draco entered the Great Hall, starving. They had been practicing for three and a half hours. There were still a few scraps of food left, and Draco watched as Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger sat together at the Gryffindor table, talking in hushed tones. Granger's bushy hair completely hid Weasley's face, which made Draco go trough a bit of trouble before realizing who he was. They were always up to something, the amount of things they managed to put themselves through was nearly impressive.

However, he was too tired to even think of something to insult them with, and sat on the first seat he came across. Anne nudged his elbow with hers, and smiled.

"Great practice."

"Thanks."

They ate in silence, but Draco was dying to ask her why she was up on those bleachers every day.

Tearing another page of his calendar, Draco concluded that there was more-or-less of a month until the big match, Slytherin versus Gryffindor. This occupied his mind most of the time, when he wasn't being eaten alive by homework and assignments. Even Snape had gone mental, assigning them a 12-inch essay on moonstone! Twelve!

Draco was being able to cope with everything so far, but as November drew nearer, he was sure he would completely lose it, knowing for a fact that Montague would put victory in front of everyone's mental sanity.

He arrived to the Great Hall just as mail was being delivered, and sat down next to Pansy, who was deep in conversation with Blaise and didn't even acknowledge Draco's presence. He started filling his plate with an assortment of toasted bread and jams. Just as he had finished spreading some strawberry jam on a piece of toast, a letter fell on top of it. Amazing, just _amazing,_ he thought, while unsuccessfully trying to clean the envelope. As soon as he saw his father's name written on it, he opened it and skimmed through the letter.

_Draco,_

_ Your mother urges you to respect your teachers and study hard; the usual, you know how she is. And do try to win that cup, Potter has been disgracing the Slytherin team ever since he started playing. I believe Severus would be very happy if he could have that cup in his office. I spoke to Vincent and Gregory's fathers, and they were thrilled for their sons having made it to the team. That brute strength of theirs finally paid off, I reckon._

_ As for the Grey's, I have long ago tried to understand why you ask certain questions, but I am interested in knowing where this sudden curiosity came from._

_ Regardless of it, yes, your mother and I are familiar with the Grey's. You are right, they are pure-blooded, and have, in fact, come over for dinner at the Manor several times. Mostly when you were at school, but I think you have attended at least a few casual gatherings at their house. You probably don't remember it, you were very young._

_ They're a good family, their eldest son is working at Gringotts and their youngest, a girl if I'm not mistaken, is in your year. Don't be mislead, they are not very powerful or wealthy, but descend from ancient northern-European wizarding families and have strong connections all over Europe._

_ Again, do tell me what you are up to Draco, and do not do anything stupid, for Merlin's sake._

_Lucius_

Pocketing the letter in his robes and making a mental note to assure his father later, Draco was able to take exactly one more bite out of his breakfast before he was dragged to their History Of Magic lecture by Theodore Nott. He rather enjoyed Nott's company. His parents were friends, and they spent a lot of time together growing up. He was a very clever boy, and Draco regretted that they weren't able to spend more time together. Theodore was very select when it came to his friendships, and he preferred to be alone most of the time.

Moving slowly, they both made their way through the sea of students heading for their classes, discussing Quidditch, as would be expected. It wasn't the only thing they talked about, but their usual topics were a bit _inappropriate _for school. They said their goodbyes as the bell rung and took their seats in opposites sides of the classroom. Not even bothering to take any supplies from his bag, he set it on the tabletop and laid his head on it, preparing to take a very much deserved nap.

The last students came in, and Professor Binns entered the classroom through the blackboard, his voice filling the room with useless historical facts about the Goblin Wars. Draco eventually managed to shut the Professor's voice out, and slowly started to fall asleep. He felt a hand stroking his hair, presumably Pansy, which sent him pleasant shivers down his spine and made him go into a deep slumber.

He was forcefully awoken by someone shaking him, and he groaned, prying his eyes open with much difficulty. Anne was sitting next to him, not Pansy, packing her books and note-filled parchment scrolls into her large canvas bag.

"Really Draco, no wonder you're practically failing this class, you fall asleep during every single lecture!" she was clearly in a good mood, which is more than what you could say for Draco.

"I wouldn't have fallen asleep if someone wasn't petting my hair. I know it's really pretty, but please try to resist its charms."

Anne rolled her eyes, grinning, "Oh shut it, you were practically snoring before I even got here. Now, let's go, we have classes to go to."

"But I don't want to," he moaned, crossing his arms. At once, Anne seized him by the sleeve of his robes, and dragged him out of the classroom. Draco was starting to hate being dragged along, but he still went with it. Being punched by a girl once in his life was more than enough.

That afternoon, after classes were done with, Draco was sitting near the lake, bundled in his robes, trying to distract himself from the cold. He had tried to go to the common room, but it was so crowded his only option was sitting on the floor. At least the grounds near the lake were devoid of students. Most of the leaves had begun to fall, and specks of orange were scattered in every direction, like little fires. Looking around for something to do, he remembered his father's letter in his pocket, and pulled out a piece of parchment from his bag.

_Father,_

_I am surprised for you to think I am always so trouble-prone. Last time I checked, I hadn't turned into a member of the Weasley clan._

_ Anyhow, my intentions are disaster-free. I just happened to meet the younger Grey, you're correct, she's in my year, and in Slytherin too. She seems nice enough, and looks like she could give me a hand in my studies. I was merely interested in knowing if she would be a suitable friendship, that's all._

_Don't forget to say hello to mother for me._

_Draco_

He sighed as he got up and started to walk towards the Owlery, the mere idea of going up all those stairs making him feel tired already. If his practices hadn't been called off for the week, on Professor McGonagall's orders so the Gryffindors would be able to get some training done as well, he would have instantly dismissed the idea of going up to the high tower.

All the free time Draco experienced during the following week, was put into schoolwork. All he seemed to do was read and underline and write. No matter how much he hated 4-hour practices, it did give him time to focus on something else and blow off some steam. He was starting to get cabin fever from spending so much time cooped up inside the library.

He felt an urge to strangle his teachers.

October soon rolled around, the weather gradually becoming colder, even more than in the past years. It seemed like the students in Hogwarts would have to face a very strict winter.

Draco yawned as he sat through the last lecture of the day, boring, boring Divination. Amazingly, the classroom felt like there were five dragons breathing fire underneath it. Every other place in the castle felt like it was covered in ice but apparently the woman who taught this class wasn't familiar with the concept of opening a window.

He soon stopped listening to Sybill Trelawney's, his not so mentally healthy teacher, insane rants and let his mind frequently wander off to Montague's tactics. He reviewed them mentally, and eagerly awaited the time he could go outside and get on his broomstick and just _play_. Sure, Draco loved winning just as much as anyone else, but he loved the sheer thrill of speeding through the air more than anything else in that sport. The bell rung, breaking his thoughts, making him jump out of his seat and nearly running out of the classroom and to the pitch, coming across with some of his fellow team members on the way there.

Adjusting his shoulder straps, his boot-clad feet stepping on the grass, Draco followed his captain's orders, and flew up into the air, flying aimlessly around. The crisp air on every inch of exposed skin made him shiver, and he smiled with contentment, making pirouettes in the air. He zoomed in on Montague, who was describing a move to Nott, and quickly moved towards the bleachers, his smile widening. Anne waved at him from the bleachers, and Draco waved back, truly happy to see her.

Montague seemed to be in a terrific mood, since he let them have dinner at a respectable hour, after a short 2-hour practice. Upon landing, Draco looked up, half-hoping to see Anne and her book, but knowing she had probably left hours ago. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw her looking at him, picking up her book, and exiting the pitch.

Draco headed for the showers, where he was greeted with Warrington's gratuitous nakedness. A look of disgust crossed his face. He pointlessly tried to erase the image from his mind, and stepped into the showers, a hazy cloud of steam surrounding him.

Some 20 minutes later, the sky already darkening, Draco ventured outside, only to be greeted with Anne's smile and rosy cheeks. She was bundled up in winter gear, with gloves, a thick coat and the Slytherin scarf around her neck. The sun was setting behind her, and only a strip of orange and purple remained on the horizon.

"Anne, what are you still doing here? You're going to freeze to death."

"Nonsense. I thought that if I had managed to sit through one of your practices, I might as well wait for you, and walk back to the castle with some company."

"Why do you come to watch them? They're pretty boring, if you're watching, that is."

"Well, I'll tell you a secret. I don't know much about Quidditch," she admitted, but she didn't sound embarrassed by it at all, "So, I thought, if I watched a few practices, where the things are more slow-paced than in an actual game, I might actually understand the rules. And I did!"

"Oh," mouthed Draco, slightly discouraged.

"Besides, you're my friend, I like supporting you in these things. I do the same for Toby," she was silent for about two seconds, "That's my brother, you see. He always tried to make me like Quidditch, but I was very stubborn, and insisted that girls didn't play it. So, I never learned about it. I've been trying to get into it lately, since it's such a big part of the school spirit, but I still find it a bit boring."

"I didn't know you had a brother, you never mentioned him before."

She shot him look of disbelief, "Draco, are you serious? I talk about Toby all the time!"

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

Draco snuggled into his cloak, hiding his face, "Pretty sure you don't."

"Just because you never listen to what I say doesn't mean I don't say it, honestly Draco, you are just-"

"Anyway, change of subject, you have a brother and that's terrific, please do tell me more about it."

She looked at him, her mouth slightly open. Her lips curled into a smile and she nudged his arm with her elbow, moving closer to him, "Well, he works at Gringotts, which is amazing. He brings me all these rare foreign coins. He's only able to bring them home because all the goblins trust him. They don't usually do that, you know."

"I know," he whispered.

She looked at him, and he looked back at her. She had tiny beauty marks scattered across her cheeks, like freckles but darker and more spread out. His arm was warm from her touch.

"I wish I knew more about you, Draco," she said, staring at the sky.

"You can ask me anything. I though you knew that."

"And I do. But... It's just, sometimes, I don't feel comfortable asking things. I don't want people to think I'm meddling."

He slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer to him, "Hey, you can ask me anything, Anne. Anything, alright?"

"Alright," she smiled, "You can ask me anything as well. I promise I'll always answer."

Dusk was setting as they entered the castle, the only sound being the echo of their footsteps in the deserted halls. Draco's arm was still wrapped around her shoulders.

"Anne," said Draco, "are you always as happy as you seem to be?"

She nodded, "Yes, most of the time. I think I only get really sad when I try to charm something and end up burning my eyebrows off. Unfortunately, that happens quite a lot!"

Draco laughed at the thought of an eyebrow-free Anne, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Don't make fun of me!" she complained with a fake pout, mumbling something that sounded a lot like "prick" under her breath. Draco kept laughing, though, and she soon joined him.

"It's amazing how you are able to find the best in anything,"

"The good things are always there, Draco, people just tend to ignore them."

"Good thing I have you around to point them out to me."

"Hey, Draco?"

"Yeah, Anne?"

"You're a good thing."

The next morning, Draco got a letter from his father, and in-between arrangements for his next visit and motherly worries, one line stood out.

_Yes son, she would be a very suitable friend indeed._


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter VI_

"And never forget the sharp jab!" bellowed Professor Flitwick over the incessant sound of raven calls and toad croaks. Draco stared at his raven, a look of revulsion etched on his face. It seemed as if the bird wanted to bite his ear off as soon as possible.

He pointed his wand at it, and cast the Silencing Charm. After a few tries, it opened its beak, but no sound came out. _And now, to do absolutely nothing for the next hour,_ thought Draco, leaning back on his chair, his arms behind his head.

"Have you got it already, Malfoy? Lucky you, I just managed to make it even louder!" said Daphne Greengrass, as her raven shrieked. She scrunched up her face, and covered her ears, trying again. Next to Daphne, sat Anne, who was completely disgusted by her toad, and when it croaked, she winced and jumped back. Draco watched her, highly amused. Daphne pumped her fist in the air in victory as her raven was finally silent. She turned to Anne, asking if she needed any help. Draco watched as Anne shook her head, and muttered the incantation.

The toad jumped, and Anne yelped, nearly knocking Daphne out of her seat. Draco started snickering, seeing Anne truly terrified was the most entertaining thing he had witnessed in ages. She was now latched onto Daphne, with an expression of sheer horror. "I hate, _hate_, slimy animals. Why couldn't I get a nice little raven?" she muttered into the other girl's sleeve.

"Anne, just silence the damn thing, show it to Flitwick, and he'll Vanish it!" intervened Draco

"But I can't silence it, it only croaks louder every time I cast the charm!" her nails were digging into Daphne's arms by that point, who gently pried her fingers off of her and went somewhere else, mumbling some excuse about helping Milicent.

The toad croaked, and Anne shrieked. Draco scooted next to her.

"Woman, it's not so hard, you just have to point your wand, and say the incantation," he took her wand and exemplified, "See, easy! You try now."

"But it won't work and it's a toad and I hate it and, it's moving, make it stop!" Anne backed away from the animal. Draco thought she was about to burst into tears and held back a chuckle.

"I'd do it for you, but this is an O.W.L. spell, you need to know how to do it. Come on, just a sharp jab. Try it!"

She reluctantly took her wand from Draco's hand, and closed her eyes, trying to relax. She pointed her wand at the toad, and nothing happened. "See! I can't do it!"

Draco rolled his eyes, "That's because you're swishing your wand around, Anne. Again."

After a few more failed attempts, Anne finally managed to at least diminish the animal's voice, and about ten minutes later she had silenced it completely.

"I did it! Draco, I did it!" she said, grinning at him so hard, he thought her face was going to split in two, "Now, get it out of here, it's disgusting, and I hate it!"

"It's just a toad. You're a bit of wimp, you know that?"

"Yes, yes, I know, and I don't really care. Professor Flitwick, I'm done, can you Vanish it?"

The Professor came over, "I can see you're getting better at my class Miss Grey. This time it only took you half a class to complete an assignment!" he smiled warmly, and Vanished the poor toad.

Anne sighed, obviously relieved, and leaned against Draco.

"I think this was quite possibly the worst Charms class of my entire life."

"What about the time you burned your eyebrows?"

"There was no croaking and no slime. It beat this one by a long shot," she sighed, again, calming down. Her voice wasn't so high-pitched anymore.

Draco looked at the top of her head, "You're not too brilliant at charms, are you?"

"Oh Draco, what makes you think that? I am fantastic at it, if you don't count the fact that I blow something up in class at least twice a week. I hate it, I'm only half-decent at hexes. I only managed to get the hang of the Hover Charm on my second year!" She was practically yelling over the sound of a particularly loud raven right behind them.

"Well, think of it this way, at least you'd still knock Snape out in potion-brewing."

Anne crumpled her face, "Actually, I only managed to brew the Peace Draught so well because I used to do with my brother all the time," he looked at her, wanting to ask why she'd do such a thing.

"For my Dad," she explained, "Sometimes he'd come home really stressed from work, and took one of those. We always made some just in case. I'm not very good at potions, only at following instructions. I'm quite good at cooking as well."

"But you still knew how to brew it right? That means you've got to be smart."

"Your amazingly idiotic logic makes no sense whatsoever," a hint of a smile played on her lips, "But thanks anyway."

The piercing sound of the bell filled the classroom, and all the students left as quickly as they could, leaving Professor Flitwick fending against the loud animals all by himself.

Hours later, Draco fell on the common room couch, exhausted from having spent the whole afternoon and evening playing Quidditch. The couches were empty, an unusual thing, and as he looked around, he saw most of his classmates hunched over endless scrolls of parchment. His stomach grumbled. He hadn't had dinner, since when he got to the Great Hall there was no more food left.

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. He'd forgotten the History of Magic paper, due the next day. Which he needed to pass the class at the end of term.

Draco was royally screwed. He knew nothing about the Goblin wars, he spent all of his lectures sleeping! Honestly, the only person who even managed to live through those things was Anne. He perked up. That was it, Anne! Looking around, he found her sitting at a table, reading something. He silently approached her, bending down to face her.

"Anne?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Yes, Draco?" she didn't look at him.

"You know the History of Magic paper? The one due tomorrow?" she nodded, "Well, I need it to pass, and I was wondering if..." he was cut short.

"I'm not doing it for you."

"But Anne, you're the only person here who even pays attention to Binns' lectures!"

"I'm not doing for you. You didn't silence my toad, so I'm not doing it for you."

"You're being unfair! I helped you with it!"

"My point exactly," she turned to face him, smiling lightly, "I'll help you with the paper, but I won't do it for you. Go get a chair, will you?"

Draco eagerly obeyed her, and soon sat down next to her, quill in hand. They spent the next hours on the paper, Anne explaining everything to him, and Draco nearly falling asleep every ten minutes. This earned him light smacks on the arm and a hiss from Anne.

"I'm sleepy."

"So am I, Draco, but we have to finish this."

"I don't want to!"

She patted his head, "Did you eat?"

"No."

"No wonder, you're so grumpy. Wait here," she got up and stormed upstairs.

Draco's stomach growled in anticipation when he saw her come down with a brown paper bag, "I'd packed this for you at dinner, but forgot to give it you earlier."

She took out some 5 sandwiches from the small bag, which Draco eagerly devoured, "I'd be lost without you, Anne."

"I'm amazed at how long you lasted on your own."

They finally managed to finish it around one in the morning. No one was in the common room anymore. The crackling of the flames in the fireplace echoed in the stone walls. Anne silently gathered her things, and Draco stretched and yawned in his seat. They sat for a bit, soundlessly, looking at each other.

"Thank you. For helping me, and staying up this late with me," Draco noticed how tired she looked.

"No problem, you'd do the same for me. Actually, you did, this morning, so, we're even." She smiled for a half a second, before covering her mouth, also yawning, "I really need to go to bed now, or I'll fall asleep on the table."

"Yeah, I'm going up as well," they got up and headed for the stairs.

Before Anne could go up, Draco placed his hand on her arm, "Thanks, again."

"Forget about it, it's what friends do," she spread her arms out, "Bedtime hug, I want one."

Draco moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, while she laid her head on his shoulder, eyes closed. He rested his chin atop of her head. Her hair smelled familiar and comforting. They stood there together for what seemed like hours, before Draco realized that she had fallen asleep. He gingerly tried to pry her body away from his.

"Not asleep Draco, not asleep," she mumbled, her voice hoarse.

"Right, off to bed now."

"Yeah, but I wasn't even asleep, so I don't understand why I should even go to class right now."

Draco laughed as he watched her go up the stairs, taking small, unbalanced steps. He went up the stairs to his dormitory, where he was greeted with snores from his housemates, and climbed into bed. He could still feel his heart thumping.

The rest of the week was a blur. Everyone was caught up in the excitement and expectation of the upcoming trip to Hogsmeade. Draco couldn't really understand what the big fuss was all about, although he did crave for a slight change of scenario, even if just for an afternoon.

He had some nice memories of Hogsmeade. Every Christmas, his mother would take him there, to do some shopping and they'd always have Butterbeers afterwards. When he was little, he always ended up with an assortment of candy, which he delightfully ate for several days. His mother still has a picture of him eating a chocolate frog, his face and some bits of his hair covered in chocolate. She always carries it with her.

On Saturday, nearly the entire student body formed a beeline near the front gates, handing over permission slips and talking to their friends. Draco was accompanied by the usual crowd, having a good time. The brisk wind made him shiver, and he held his cloak tighter to his body. He stared at Pansy and Blaise's backs as they walked in front of him. The two had gotten very close over the past weeks. Draco hadn't really noticed it until a couple of nights ago, when he saw them whispering to each other in the common room, curled under the same blanket. He was unaware of so many things.

They walked to the village, Vincent and Gregory throwing snowballs at each other, and Draco talking to Draco. Upon reaching Hogsmeade, everyone split up. Blaise and Pansy entered Madam Pudifoot's Tea Shop, the mere sight of it making Draco gag, and Vincent and Gregory got lost at Honeydukes. Theodore bid Draco goodbye, as he had some business to attend to. Draco had nothing better to do than explore the area off of High Street. He hadn't strayed away from it very often, as most of the rest of the village was a residential area, where thatched roofs were snow-free and all the gardens were still green. Not for long, though, as winter was near. There were still some shops around. Draco spotted a place selling vegetables and fruit, a few flower shops and a bookshop. The latter caught his eye. The shop window didn't serve as a display for books, but as an actual window. It was framed by red, velvety curtains, and there once had been a name written on it, but now there were faint outlines of the letters "T" and "E". He looked through the window, and decided enter the shop.

A bell rung when he opened the door, and a shopkeeper greeted him. Draco gave him a fake smile and started looking around. It wasn't very big, and it had a faint smell of lavender, but the atmosphere was cosy and warm. There seemed to be a lot of fiction books, some with titles such as "The Stranger in the Knight Bus" and "Mischief in the Ministry". The shop was pristine, save for a thin layer of dust over some of the books, the ones no-one remembered to read.

He ventured a bit to the left, near the window, and started pulling out some books from the shelves. He felt someone tugging at his cloak, and looking down, he saw Anne sitting on a green sofa, who had closed her book so forcefully that a cloud of dust was hovering around her.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she patted the seat next to her, "Don't just stand there, Draco, I feel even tinier than usual if you do."

Draco took her invitation, and sat down, smoothing invisible wrinkles on his pants, "I can't say I felt the same, this is very... you."

"It's great, isn't it? I come here every time we visit Hogsmeade, and end up spending my whole allowance! There are just so many books, it's crazy," she was looking around, looking so serene that Draco assumed she was daydreaming.

"What are you reading? It seems quite... dense," he took the leather-bound book from her hands and flipped through a few pages.

"Oh, it's great! It's really great! It's about this wizard who decides to leave his home and travel all around the world to find what is believed to be a reviving plant, which can give you immortality! He gets into all manners of different adventures, and meets tons of new people. It's amazing, so far. It's called 'Further North'."

"Seriously? And you read this for fun?"

"Well, of course. Just because you're illiterate and only read the bare minimum necessary for school doesn't mean everyone else does!"

Draco scrunched up his nose, "I'm not illiterate! I just get bored easily."

"Right," she looked around and suddenly turned to him, "I hadn't seen you this week, so I didn't have a chance to ask you what Binns thought of your assignment."

He smiled and rubbed the back of neck, looking down at his feet, "He said it was my best work yet."

Anne beamed at him, "See, I told you, I knew you could do it!"

"Oh, please, Anne, no fake modesty. I could have never done it without you."

She rested her head on his shoulder, "Maybe."

"Hey, do you want to go for a walk?"

She perked up, grabbing her bag, "Yes, please! I just have to pay for this book and we can get on our way."

They both rose from the sofa, and Anne moved towards the cashier, handing the book in and searching her bag for her wallet. As she started counting coins on the countertop, Draco placed a hand over hers, and handed the attendant a golden coin.

"As a thank you. For helping me."

"You don't have to do that , Draco."

"I want to Anne, just this once."

She bit her lip, and looked at her hand. Draco was still holding it, and when he saw her looking, pulled it away quickly.

"Fine, but I'm getting you a Butterbeer later."

"Why can't you just accept things?" he took the book from the attendant, and they started making their way outside.

"I enjoy being stubborn. One of my many charming qualities."

Draco laughed, and looked at her. Her cheeks were rosy, they were always rosy, splashed with little black dots and dimples. Her eyes were creased with a smile.

"What are you looking at?"

"You."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

She laughed and buried her face in her scarf. Their shoulders bumped against each other.

Suddenly, Anne stopped and looked upwards at the sky, "I think it's snowing!"

Little white flakes fell around them, melting as soon as they touched anything, "That's strange, it never snows this time of year."

"It's snowing just for the two of us, we're that special, Draco."

He laughed, "I bet we are."

"Hold on, you have a snowflake on your albino eyelash," she carefully touched his face and picked the snowflake out.

"My eyelash is not albino. You're just jealous I'm blonde and you have to settle with your common brown hair."

"Mind you, everyone is blonde in Britain. I'm the one who is uncommon here."

"You sure are, Anne."

"Stop trying to discretely call me a freak."

"I'm just being truthful, love."

"You're an awful person."

He smiled at her, his eyes soft, and placed an arm around her shoulders, "Let's go back to the castle, shall we, I'm getting cold."

"It's not even five o' clock yet. I haven't even gotten you a Butterbeer!"

"Shush, there's no need."

"But I want to!" she whined, producing a fake pout.

"Come on, the snow is starting to fall a bit harder."

"That's a lie, Draco, a lie."

"No it's not, you're just a bad judge of weather phenomenons."

She steered him away to a secluded area and unhooked herself from his arm. Draco muttered a small protest, which she ignored, and watched as she walked to a little wooden fence. She rested her elbows on top of it, her back turned to him. He walked closer to her.

"What are you looking at?"

"Just the sky," she pointed upwards, "It's amber and blue at the same time."

The sun was setting in the horizon, casting a mixed hue over the fields and houses of Hogsmeade. Voices and laughter of other students could be heard far away. Anne kept looking at empty spaces, not blinking. Draco joined her. They stood there for a long time, watching the sun descend further and further into the land.

"You're shivering," noticed Draco.

"I'm not cold."

He pulled her closer to him, wrapping his cloak around her. She hugged his side and pointed at a moving spot in the field, "It's a rabbit."

"It is. Anne, don't you want to go back in?"

"Sort of. I don't feel like walking all the way back."

"Come on now, love, let's get going, or we'll both freeze to death."

"Fine. But I was enjoying myself!"

"You wouldn't enjoy yourself if you got detention for being late."

"Oh, please, Umbridge loves both of us, as if we could get detention."

Their footsteps were muted by the grassy path as they kept walking to the castle.

"I'm glad we became friends, Anne."

"I'm glad you didn't leave that day at the library."

He smiled at her and kissed the top of her head, "I am too."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII**

Draco, much like the entire Slytherin House, was caught in a whirlwind of stress, excitement and anxiety during the rest of the month of October. He stayed at the pitch for long hours after class on Montague's orders. He felt exhausted, and nearly fell asleep on all of his morning classes. Anne caved in to his pleas sometimes, and helped him research for an assignment or two. Granted, they didn't turn out perfect and worthy of an O, but they were still better than if he had done them all by himself.

The whole house was excited for the first match of the year. They wanted to bring the Gryffindors down with all their hearts. Being the Seeker, the victory depended nearly entirely on Draco. There was a lot of pressure from both his peers and himself. Maybe he was taking this too seriously, but there was a burn inside him demanding to beat Potter. Draco had always hated his attitude while playing. The whole "Oh, I'm so miserable and sad, but don't feel bad for me, I'm the best Quidditch player ever, and am able to overcome my difficulties, you should all worship the ground I walk on" thing always made Draco want to strangle him. He was good at Quidditch, too!

Unable to focus on his Care of the Magical Creatures assignment, he started staring at the fire and twirling his quill between his fingers. It was past curfew, around nine o' clock, so the common room was packed with students. Anne sat next to him on the couch, correcting Draco's latest Transfiguration homework. She was silent for most of the time, save for a few words that sounded a lot like "Learn to spell, for Merlin's sake". Draco merely glared in response, but it had little effect on her. He started going over a mental list of reasons of how Potter and his friends could die a horrible death. One of them involved getting mauled by a group of murderous Hippogriff.

"Draco, finish that assignment, will you?" ordered Anne, poking his arm with her colorful quill.

"I can't focus, it's useless," he complained

"Wuss," she said, earning yet another glare from Draco. She looked at him, "You look strange," she paused for a moment, "Are you nervous about the match?"

Looking down, he nodded, "I don't exactly fancy losing another game to Pothead."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it too much. I always look on the bright side of things, and you should too."

His mouth twisted into a grimace, "There's a bright side to losing? A bright side of losing to Potter?"

"There's a bright side to everything, silly! In this case, if you lose, keep in mind that your family is filthy rich and Harry's family is dead."

Draco started laughing, her cries of "What did I say? It wasn't funny!" only making him laugh harder.

The match was days away, and time went by painfully slowly. Draco was nervous, but to pass the time and take his mind of his own feeling, he began tormenting Ron Weasley, the Gryffindor Keeper. He was only in the team because he was Potter's friend, Draco was certain of it. And thank Merlin he was, the poor bloke was disgraceful, making the Slytherin's job so much easier.

Deciding to take advantage of his lack of abilities, Draco had put a lot of thought (which probably should've been invested in class) into coming up with a derogatory song for him. It was humiliating and Draco felt like it was the best thing he had ever come up with. He even had badges! He saw the look on Weasley's face whenever he mimicked him dropping the Quaffle, which happened every time they saw each other, and it made the feeling in the pit of his stomach slightly less nauseating.

After one of these delightful encounters in which he taunted Weasley, Draco decided to go for a walk. He roamed the halls aimlessly, going up and down stairs, lost in his own mind, until he reached a tower. It was empty, and rather freezing cold. Draco shoved his gloved hands into his pockets, leaning against the railing, and looked out the window. All he could see were green fields, muted with fog, and the Forbidden Forest in the outskirts. Hagrid's hut had smoke coming out of its chimney. Draco smiled, before taking a look at his watch and realizing he was running late.

Turning around, he watched as Hogwarts readied itself for Halloween. Tangled spiderwebs descended from the ceilings, finding their way to into every nook and cranny, and sometimes into students' hairs and faces. There were thousands of floating carved pumpkins everywhere, which gave the castle an even eerier look at night, with the shadows cast by candles. Peeves, the resident poltergeist, busied himself by dangling chains from his arms and legs and scaring the clueless first years. Draco rubbed his gloved hands together, going down the stairs to the dungeons, where the air always seemed so much colder. Anne was waiting for him at the common room entrance, hopping from one foot to another.

"Seriously, Draco, could you have taken any longer to get here? I am freezing!" she complained, her face barely visible underneath the Slytherin scarf.

"Yes, yes, shall we go?" he asked, extending an arm at her.

"We shall," she placed her left hand in the crook of his elbow, and covering it with her right.

They went up the stairs again, turning left on a hallway, and headed outside to the courtyard, where most students usually decided to spend their free afternoons. However, no one sat there that day due to the biting cold. Anne and Draco sat down on the crisp grass, and Anne pulled a small jar from her bag, which Draco filled with a small fire and placed in front of them.

"It certainly wasn't this cold last year. Seriously, what is up with the weather?"

"You sound like an old woman complaining."

"Shush," she looked around, twirling her hands near the jar.

"D'you remember our first year, when the Halloween feast was interrupted by that troll?"

She laughed, "Oh yeah, I'd forgotten that! I remember wondering what it looked like, and actually being more curious than scared. I didn't realize how dangerous it might be. Pansy was crying so hard that night, I had to pinch her so she'd shut up."

Draco smiled nervously. He had been terrified when he heard there was a troll in the dungeons. Trolls were quite big and slimy. Draco didn't like them very much.

"Oh, I wonder if they'll throw a feast again this year! We didn't get much Halloween celebrations last year on account of the Triwizard Tournament."

"No, we didn't. Halloween was the night they put the Goblet out."

Anne snorted, wrapping her hands in his cloak, "And we all know how well that went."

"It was fun while it lasted."

Anne sighed, "I'm scared, Draco, I really am."

"About what?"

She looked at him, "You know. Someone's rise. It's coming, for real this time."

"I can't say I'm not too troubled."

"Oh please, yes you are, you're just not admitting it."

Draco was silent. The Dark Lord's rise to power was confirmed and real, and while Draco's parents might be on the best of terms with him, that didn't stop Draco from dreading what might come. He slung an arm around her shoulders.

"I knew it," she said quietly.

"It's more that I don't know what to rely on. My family has always been in a good place."

"Yeah, mine hasn't, really. We're a bit ignored, but I'm afraid someone will ask us to join sides."

"He asks about me a lot," Draco confessed, casting his head down.

"He does?" she sounded surprised.

He nodded, "How I'm doing in school, if I behave, who I'm friends with. I have a feeling my father will ask me to do something, probably soon. I want to help, I feel a bit useless right now."

"No-one explains us anything, do they? Plus, if we're going to fight a war, it's best to be on the side that's going to win. I'm fearful for Toby, on account of his job and such. It's a bit of a high position, and I hope he doesn't get sucked in too deep."

Draco squeezed her body, pulling her closer to him, "We'll be fine."

Anne just stared at the flickering blue flame.

On reaching the Great Hall the first thing Draco noticed where the thousands of floating pumpkins, like the ones decorating the entirety of the castle, and little spiders scattering about the floor. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table, where Weasley was practically sitting in Potter's lap, avoiding the tiny black creatures at all cost. He heard Anne snicker at the pair, and followed her to their table.

"Hey, I got my feast!" she happily said.

Their usually spacious table was crowded with all kinds of different delicacies: the usual bangers and mash, several types of roasted game meat, both Shepherd's pie and Cottage pie, Yorkshire puddings and Cornish pasties and even some Haggis, which would most likely go uneaten. Draco helped himself to a bit of each dish (no Haggis), while Anne seemed quite enamored with the Cottage pie, slicing herself what seemed like a quarter of it.

When she saw Draco looking at her, she simply said, "Don't judge."

"Never," he swore, taking a bite into his fowl.

"Draco, why didn't you practice today?"

"We had to give up the pitch for the Gryffindors. Again."

"Bloody hell, could they get any more in the way?"

"Seemingly not. Montague is making us go to the pitch tomorrow at dawn, anyway."

"Nice way to spend All Saint's Day," she paused and looked at him, "You're looking quite pale. Well, paler than usual. Still worrying about it, huh?"

Draco sent her a pained look and buried himself in his plate.

"It'll be fine, you'll see."

He pushed his plate away, "I hope you're right."

After the feast, they all retreated to their common room.

"I am so sleepy," whined Anne.

"Shouldn't have eaten almost an entire Cottage pie," remarked Daphne.

"It was worth it, though."

Draco watched as the two girls talked, and noticed how everyone seemed happy and careless: Blaise was tickling Pansy, who erupted in fits of laughter, Theo was immersed in conversation with Montague, and Vincent and Gregory were simply trying not to throw up due to the gigantic amounts of food they had eaten. Draco was lounged in a sofa, his head on Anne's lap, who was petting his haird in-between shared giggles with Daphne. It was nice seeing Anne finally getting along with all her housemates. She spent plenty of time with Draco, and consequently, with everybody else in their house.

Pleasant shivers ran all through his body as Anne kept threading his hair with her fingers, and all thoughts of Quidditch, school, his family and his future were pushed to back of his mind as he could feel himself drift into a state of near-unconsciousness, being kept awake only by voices and the crackling of flames in the fireplace.

"Sometimes I think all this boy does is sleep," said Anne's voice.

"We're all tired from Quidditch, all the time," explained Montague.

"If you didn't make us practice every day, no-one would be this tired," complained Theodore.

Montague just snorted in response, which made everyone laugh, and Draco stopped hearing anything after that, falling asleep.

He woke up in the middle of night only to find everyone still in the same positions, curled up in blankets. He sat upright gingerly, so as to not wake Anne up, and noticed he too had a blanket over his body. The fire was still going strong, as it would ever be, hissing occasionally. He rubbed his eyes and sat next to Anne, draping his blanket over both of them and pulling Anne closer to him. She moved in her sleep, resting her head on his chest and he kissed the top of her head softly.

"So, mate, d'you want to talk about what's happening over there?" Blaise's hoarse voice surprised him, nearly making him jump. The boy was in an armchair opposite to him, Pansy in his lap, smiling sleepily at him.

"Blimey, you almost scared me half to death!" whispered Draco.

"Not my intention, not fully at least," he smirked, "Don't change the subject, though; the both of you have gotten awfully close."

Draco looked at Anne, "I suppose so."

"You're gonna have to do something about it soon, can't keep beating around the bush."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, Draco! It's obvious you fancy her, and from the looks of it, she fancies you too. Let's admit it, you're not the easiest person to be around with, but she still goes out of her way for you."

Draco just stared at his friend, his eyes glazed over.

"You're starting to see it now, aren't ya?"

"Yes," croaked Draco out, feeling his heart thump against Anne's head. He wondered if she could hear it.

"Well, I'm calling it a night, and heading upstairs," said Blaise as he disentangled himself from Pansy's grip, "I reckon you'll stay here for a little while longer, won't you?"

Draco just nodded, and Blaise smiled at him, heading to his dorm. Draco looked at Anne, feeling quite unable to look away. She slept with her mouth a bit open, he noticed. Sighing, he gently brushed her brunette hair, which clashed against the palness of his fingertips. Blaise had given him a lot to think about. Of course Anne meant something to him, she was his friend, a very good friend. They had become close very quickly and despite seeming like a very unlikely match, they had more in common than most could realize. Judging by the thumping of his heart whenever he saw her, Draco had to reluctantly admit that Blaise was right. However, he was fearful of trying anything, because there were two main possible outcomes: either Anne would reject him and he would lose his friendship (he didn't want that) or Anne would reciprocate his feelings and Draco would have to woo her and become a 'boyfriend'. Which Draco had never been.

He had never even kissed a girl, much less date one. Draco now had one more thing to worry about, the one thing that usually brought him solace.

Stupid Blaise.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **This is it for Anne and Draco, the final chapter! I bet you're all still eagerly awaiting a plot point to develop somewhere. Yeaaaah, about that... Ah, but still, it was a fun ride, and I don't think this is the last we've heard of this friendship / crush / romance / whatever it is. There might be a continuation, or a little sequel, or even silly one-shots. I love Anne and Draco too much to let them go so quickly.

I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Stay tuned for more Harry Potter nerdiness in the future!

* * *

**Chapter VIII**

Saturday soon rolled around. The first thing Draco wanted to do when he woke up was throw up. Violently and repeatedly. There was a knot in his stomach, but he still greeted his friends the same way, all of them wearing the "Weasley Is Our King" badges, courtesy of Pansy's wonderful transfiguration skills. He left his dorm room and went down the stairs to the common room, the uneasy feeling in his stomach growing heavier with each step he took. Some of his housemates wished him luck, and patted him on the back. He smiled at them, a bit smug and feeling a bit more confident, but after 10 minutes of being told all hope of winning was on his shoulders, Draco started feeling even queasier He started walking to the Great Hall, certain that he wouldn't be able to eat anything.

He heard footsteps around him, and turning around he found Anne was standing next to him, looking at him and tilting her head. He blinked at her, not really being able to force another smile or "we'll surely win" for the next five minutes, without puking all over her.

"You're nervous," was all she said. Draco didn't bother trying to correct her.

They walked together, the students around them a blur of greens and reds. Seconds before they crossed the entryway and headed towards their table, Anne squeezed Draco's hand and wished him good luck. The knot in his stomach loosened a bit, and he smirked nervously.

He and Anne sat down at the table, and Draco absent-mindedly touched the crown-shaped badge on his chest.

After staring at a piece of toast for 20 minutes, Draco's legs made their way to the pitch. He got dressed, not really focusing on anything, and letting his body perform those tasks by itself. His team entered the pitch, brooms in hand, waiting for Madam Hooch to blow the whistle. Looking around, he saw the entire Slytherin house wearing his badges, reading to start chanting. Near them, but not with them, was Anne. After Draco had explained her what the badges were for, she had nodded her head disapprovingly, telling him that this would end badly. However, he still caught a few glimpses of her smiling whenever she heard snippets of the song. Draco snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the whistle. Zooming up into the air, he nodded towards the bleachers, and nearly immediately "Weasley Is Our King" resonated through the entire field.

After a few minutes, he began focusing on what really mattered: Potter and the Snitch. Lee Jordan's voice told him that the Slytherins were winning. They had the upper hand, but it was all up to him. He kept searching the air, fruitlessly, Weasley's name filling his ears. Suddenly, he saw Potter diving towards the ground, and within seconds, he was next to him, fiercely flying after the golden Snitch. It escaped through one of the hoops, and started swerving towards the ground. Both the Seekers desperately made a grab for it, spiraling down. They were shoulder-to-shoulder, the Snitch so close to their outstretched hands. Draco had nearly got it, but Potter pushed himself a bit further and grabbed it. Draco's hand grasped the air. The next thing he knew, Harry fell to the ground, a bludger swirling away in the air.

Draco landed, angrily throwing his broom down, and storming towards Potter. He was furious, and frustrated. He had spent weeks, nearly months, training for this, and he lost because of mere inches! He charged at the Weasleys as soon as they landed, insulting their lack of skills and thie mother. When Saint Potter, who was the only one keeping George from lunging at him, decided to stick his nose in, Draco decided it was a good idea to bring up his dead parents.

Before he knew it, he had been punched in the stomach, and unable to defend himself, he had been pushed to the ground before any of his team mates could get to him. The searing pain was spreading through his ribs, and he could tell he was going to black out soon. He moaned, a liquid warmness running down his face, and lost all consciousness.

He came back to his senses after what only seemed minutes later. His eyes felt too heavy to open. He heard voices around him, arguing amongst each other. He wondered if he was still at the pitch, but quickly realized it felt too dry and warm. Maybe they had had the decency to take him back to the common room, or at least, the showers.

"They had no right to do that!" Draco identified this voice as belonging to Montague. He was practically shouting, clearly frustrated. "He was mad because he lost, they had no right to beat him up!"

"Well, he did say some nasty things about their mothers," said another voice, a lot more calmer.

"What side are you on anyway, Nott?" snapped a shrill third voice.

"Alright children, stop all this yelling, and let Mr. Malfoy get some rest, the potions I gave him are still going to take a couple of hours to fully settle," it sounded like a very familiar voice, a woman's voice, very sweet but stern. It sprang to his mind that he must have been carried to the Hospital Wing, which made sense.

After a few grumbles and footsteps, Draco was left alone, his body aching. He felt sore, but didn't feel any kind of excruciating pain. He still felt terribly uncomfortable in the starchy and tight sheets. As he slowly began trying to open his eyes, he heard whispered voices.

"I'm sorry Miss, but he really needs to rest, or he'll take much longer to recover."

"Please, I'll be quiet, and it'll only take a few minutes, I promise."

The plea apparently worked, since he heard some rustling of robes and footsteps. The weight on his bed shifted as someone sat on the edge of his bed. He gently pried his eyes open, blinking, trying to adjust to the bright lights. Anne's blurred face was staring at him, and for once, not smiling. Her arms were crossed. Draco felt guiltier as her face steadily began to grow more focused, and he wasn't sure of what he'd done.

"I honestly thought you were smart enough not to insult the families of two boys bigger than you. What were you thinking Draco?" She wasn't yelling, but Draco wished she was.

He carefully began to straighten up, not looking at her, pushing the bed underneath him with the palm of his hands. He cautiously looked up, only to meet her eyes, boring into his. She looked angry. He'd never really seen her angry before. It was, frankly, a very scary sight.

"If Madam Hooch hadn't stopped them, you'd have been beaten to a bloody pulp with no internal organs left," at this, he opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand and silenced him, "I know you were mad because you lost, but really Draco, insulting their mothers? Could you not possibly see how that would only lead to you in pain?" she got up, and ran a hand through her hair, making it stick out in odd places.

"I couldn't really help it," his voice was hoarse, and he felt a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, "I was inches away from winning! Inches!"

She sighed, and sat next to him on the bed, "I know that. You need to control your pride a bit more."

He huffed, and she smiled gently at him, "Oh, so all of a sudden, we're all perky and sweet again to the bloke who is suffering of agonizing pains and not yelling at him?"

She ruffled his hair, her smile growing brighter, "I didn't yell at you."

"Bloody hell you didn't," he muttered underneath his breath, but secretly glad she wasn't truly angry at him.

She began stroking his air, and they sat together silently for a few minutes, "I was just worried," she said, her voice low, "As mad as I felt over your immature attitudes, and do not deny it," she quickly added after seeing him frown, "It was quite horrible to see you lying there with blood all over your face. Potter can pack a mean punch for such a scrawny bloke. I didn't think he had it in him!"

"Glad to know you value Pothead's fighting skills more than my well-being, I feel so much more comforted."

"Hey, I'm only stating facts here," she held up her hands, "I'm glad you're alright, though." She stroked his cheek, and Draco felt his body heat up.

Clearing his throat, he changed the subject, "Do you know when I can leave this place?" he looked around, the sterile white environment did not please him at all.

"I was here when they brought you in, and before I got kicked out I heard Professor Snape telling Madam Pomfrey that the potions would take at least two hours for you to fully heal. You're still a bit bruised," she lightly traced his jaw with her fingers, "Hopefully you'll be out by lunch time." He looked at the clock that hung on the wall opposite him, its hands nearing eleven o' clock.

"Miss, your minute's over, let Mr. Malfoy sleep for a bit, will you?" the full-figured woman said it with a kind smile, but sternly, and Anne nodded, getting up and asking her something that Draco couldn't make out.

"Well," she said, after she was at his bedside again, "you'll be able to leave at three, do you want me to come and get you?"

"Yes, please."

She smiled, bent down and kissed his temple softly, "Get well soon, alright?" she whispered, gingerly holding his hand. Draco nodded, flustered, and cleared his throat, in lack of anything better to say. She waved him goodbye, and he watched her back as she left. He let his head fall onto his pillow, and stared at the ceiling, while Madam Pomfrey checked his temperature, smiling knowingly at the young boy.

_ The crowd roared wildly, as Draco, the youngest professional seeker of the decade, soared proudly through the air, holding the Golden Snitch in his hand. As soon as he landed, he was handed a cup, and a million camera flashes went off in his face, taking his smiling picture. _

_ "Mr. Malfoy, how does it feel to win the Quidditch World Cup?" yelled one reporter._

_ "Sir, what will you do next?" asked another._

_ "Draco, wake up, you can leave now," said one of the fans next to him. Wait, what?_

Draco groaned, "Lemme sleep. Five more minutes," he slurred into his pillow.

The cold air hit his entire body, and he shivered, blindly reaching for the blankets. He was being shaken awake, even if lightly, and this was proving to be one of the most rude awakenings he had ever experienced. He reluctantly opened his eyes, and found himself inches away of Anne's face.

"You're such a baby, Draco. Get up, now!" she said rather loudly.

He sat on the edge of the bed, poking his stomach and cherishing the absence of pain.

"Dracoooooooo," whined Anne, "I'm hungry, hurry up!"

"What do you even want me to do, woman?"

"Get dressed, come on, we'll miss what's left of lunch!"

Draco's stomach grumbled at the mention of food, and he noticed he hadn't eaten since the previous day. The toast crumbles he had for breakfast didn't exactly count.

"And what I am supposed to wear, exactly?"

She shoved his uniform into his hands, "This. I asked Theodore to get it for me," she added, noting his raised eyebrow.

He stood there, looking at her for a few seconds, "Anne, you can turn around now, I don't need help dressing, thank you very much," he smirked, amused at the way her cheeks reddened.

"Yeah, right, I knew that," she muttered, and closed the curtain around his bed, "But please, hurry up, I'm starving!"

He got dressed quickly, and joined Anne again. After she insisted on thanking Madam Pomfrey, they left the Hospital Wing. She held her stomach when it made strange noises.

"Why haven't you eaten yet?"

"I was busy. I had to get your things, then I ran into Professor Snape and he asked me how you were and I had to be all polite and answer him properly. I ended up talking to Montague on the way here, actually. I have some great news for you, I think you'll be pleased to hear this."

His face lit up in expectation, "Really? What is it?"

"Apparently, Umbridge decided to ban Harry and the Weasley twins from playing Quidditch. For life!" she was smiling, her eyes glinting, and Draco grinned, ecstatic at the news.

"Because they punched me?" he asked, not feeling so bad about losing anymore.

"Yes, and she even took away their brooms!" Anne linked her arm with his, "See, I was right. There is always a bright side to everything!"

"That's great!"

"I knew you'd be happy. Now let's go get some food!"

"Okay, fine, let's go. This certainly makes up for the time when Umbridge disbanded Quidditch."

"Agreed. I have mixed feelings for her. On one hand, she doesn't hate us like Dumbledore does, but I think she's too strict, don't you think, Draco?"

"Maybe a bit. I'm kind of biased, though, since I cannot abide saint Dumbledore."

"Can you even abide anyone, Draco?"

"I most certainly can!"

"Oh, please! You hate everyone!"

"I don't hate you."

"I'm special," she smiled.

The Great Hall was still filled with students, trying to get a post-game snack, and Draco was cheered loudly upon reaching the Slytherin table.

"Have you heard the news, mate? You might've lost, but at least we'll never have to play against saint Potter again!" exclaimed Blaise, overjoyed.

"Yes, thank Merlin. It was worth being beaten up for, I reckon," everyone laughed and words of approval floated around him. Draco sat down next to Montague, who complimented him on his performance, and began piling his plate with food. Everything looked appetizing to him at the moment. Anne sat next to him, eating what looked like roasted chicken and pumpkin.

"Draco," said Montague, who sat opposite to him, "You put on a good game out there, despite the outcome. I'm proud."

Draco smirked, alongside Anne's smile, "Well, you've taught me well, captain."

"Glad to know so," Montague took a bite out of his mashed potatoes, "But next time I want a win. And that goes true for all you lot." Everyone soberly nodded.

A roar of laughter reverberated in the back of Draco's throat when Vincent and Gregory mimicked the look on Weasley's face when he heard the chantings, the girls soon joining in, causing the entire table to muffle out all other noises in the Great Hall. Draco looked at Anne, who had tears spilling out of her eyes, and was laughing into her hand.

She suddenly looked so natural to him, so careless. When she leaned on his shoulder, laughing, he felt like he belonged.


End file.
